


Homecoming

by Xie



Category: Queer as Folk (US)
Genre: BDSM, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Short
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-11
Updated: 2017-09-11
Packaged: 2018-12-26 17:57:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,693
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12064116
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xie/pseuds/Xie
Summary: Justin's in a bad mood.





	Homecoming

  
Author's notes:

Written for the [qaf_challenges community](http://community.livejournal.com/qaf_challenges/) "icon challenge." 

  **Title:** Homecoming ****  
Written By: Xie ****  
Timeline: A few years post-513  
**Rating:** NC-17  
**Warning:** If you don’t like Justin being tied up and smacked with Brian’s belt, you might or might not like this story. It’s hard to say.  
**Summary:** Porn. No plot. Unless “Justin’s in a bad mood” is a plot.  
**Author’s Notes:** I’d thank my beta but she’d never forgive me for writing this piece of smut so I didn’t show it to her.  
**Inspired By Icon:**[31](http://i3.photobucket.com/albums/y67/alicesprings/10090897-1.jpg)

* * *

Justin came out of his studio feeling tired and a little irritated. His hand hurt, his allergies were acting up, and Brian had been away on a business trip and he hadn’t gotten laid in four days.

And speaking of Brian, he hadn’t even come into the studio when he got home, just gone straight into the media room. Which is what he did every night when he came home and Justin was working, unless he had something to tell him. Something like, “Take your clothes off and get on that table, I have to fuck your ass.” That kind of thing.

Justin walked into the media room, and there was Brian, sitting at his computer, checking the same email he’d probably checked at the airport two hours before. His priorities were clearly completely fucked.

“Hey.”

Brian looked up and saw that Justin was wearing paint-spattered sweats and a t-shirt, barefoot, and in a pissy mood. He’d debated going in and saying hi when he got home, but the throbbing anti-social beat of whatever Justin was listening to had made him decide against it. You don’t live with someone as long as Brian had lived with Justin and not learn to read the subtle cues.

Like, when Justin’s glaring at you from the doorway, you have two choices. Try to cajole and sweet talk him into a better mood, or fuck the shit out of him.

Brian wasn’t so much with the sweet talk.

“So, shitty day, dear?” He leaned back in his chair, put his arms behind his head, and raised an eyebrow.

Justin camefurther into the room and threw himself dramatically on the sofa. “Shitty enough. How was yours?” He picked up the remote control and turned on the TV.

Brian got up, took the remote out of Justin’s hand, turned off the TV, and let it fall to the floor. He yanked his tie off over his head, reached down for Justin’s left hand, and pulled him abruptly off the sofa.

Justin lost his balance, and stumbled against Brian. Brian grinned and sat down, jerking Justin into his lap at the same time he attacked him with his mouth. He was covering him with kisses, biting and nibbling at his lower lip and his neck, roughly shoving his t-shirt up and pinching his nipples.

Justin stiffened at first, but then started kissing back, sucking Brian’s tongue into his mouth and trying to pull Brian’s shirt out of his pants.

Brian surprised him by slapping his hands away and grabbing both his wrists in one of his hands. “Stop it.”

Surprise made Justin go limp for a second, and Brian took advantage of that to pull Justin close to him, pinning his arms to his side. He went back to Justin’s throat, sucking the skin over his windpipe into his mouth. Justin felt it, sharp and painful. He let his head fall back against Brian’s shoulder, and let his knees fall apart a little, too.

“Miss me?” It was Brian’s mouth at his ear, his breath hot and his tone half amused, half mocking. Pure Brian.

Justin didn’t answer, just wriggled his arm free and tried to drag Brian’s hand between his legs. Brian laughed and started using his mouth on Justin again – he couldn’t call it kissing, because it was like he wanted to eat Justin alive, suck not just his tongue but his heart and soul right up out of his mouth. Justin twisted around, deliberately grinding his hip into Brian’s cock. Brian’s hand slipped up under his shirt again, and he gripped Justin’s nipple and pinched, hard.

Justin arched into the touch and bit Brian’s tongue.

Brian’s hand was in his hair and he pulled, forcing Justin’s head back, while Brian sucked on his mouth again. His other arm was between Justin’s legs, and he shoved his thighs apart and then cupped his balls, roughly, pressing them back against Justin’s body.

He pulled his mouth away from Justin’s, and pressed it close to his ear again. His hand kept pressing and releasing Justin’s balls. Justin tried to squirm down so he got some contact on his cock, but Brian didn’t let him move.

“Do you know what I’d do if we were upstairs in our bed?”

“No.” Justin’s voice was just a whisper. “What would you do?”

“I’d make you take all your clothes off…” The pressure on Justin’s balls got harder, and then less. Brian moved the palm of his hand so it rested on the base of Justin’s cock.

“I’d make you strip the bed down so it was just one sheet, one of the black ones. Because you look so hot against a black sheet. Then I’d make you lie down on your back.” He was grinding the heel of his hand into Justin’s cock, and Justin was thrusting up against it.

“Not on my stomach?” He could hardly get a word out.

“No, I thought about it, but I don’t want your ass tonight. I want this.” And his fist closed hard on Justin’s cock, and Justin arched into it again, while Brian’s teeth bit at his ear lobe.

“Then I’d take your arms and tie them above your head, one to each corner of the bed. Do you know why?”

Justin licked his lips. “So I couldn’t move?”

“So you can’t cover your fucking eyes, so you have to see what I do to you.”

Justin just moaned. Brian’s hand was stroking him relentlessly through his cotton sweatpants. He wanted it inside them, but Brian ignored his attempts to move his hand there. He squirmed again, frustrated.

“Do you know what I’d do then?”

Brian had relaxed his grip on Justin’s hair, so Justin shook his head. He could feel the pulse beating in his throat.

“I’d take your legs and spread them out as far as they could go, all the way until the muscles were straining. And I’d tie each ankle to the corner of the bed.”

Justin shivered, and Brian’s hand left his hair and reached down and pushed on the inside of one of his thighs, until it fell off the sofa, his foot resting on the floor. Brian’s other hand continued its assault on his cock, hard and a little hurtful through the cotton of his sweatpants.

“Then I’d take off my belt, and do you know what I’d do with it, Justin?”

Justin whimpered but didn’t answer. He didn’t even shake his head. He had his eyes closed and was pinned against Brian’s body. He could feel Brian slowly grinding into him from behind, and Brian’s hand was still rubbing against his cock, and Justin reached down again and tried to bring Brian’s hand inside his pants. But Brian slapped him away, and he let his arms fall to his sides.

“I’d take my belt and I’d drag it gently across your thighs, slowly back and forth, the tip of it, and then the whole belt. And you’d be moving, not knowing when I was going to do more than just drag it like that. I’d start just above your knees, and then I’d go up to the tops of your thighs, and then I’d start on the insides. Right where the skin is smooth and pale, Justin.

“And then I’d strap across your thighs so hard I’d leave marks, bright red welts from the edge of the belt. And you’d try to get away, but you couldn’t. You’d be wriggling and pushing back into the bed, but you'd know you couldn't get away, I’d just keep hitting you, keep marking you with it…”

Justin was writhing on Brian now, his ass pressing back in rhythm with Brian’s hand gripping him, Brian’s cock thrusting up.

“And then I’d slash across the tops of your thighs, and then the insides again, crossing over the marks I’d already made, and then I’d stop.”

Brian’s hand stilled on Justin’s cock, and Justin moaned and put his hand on Brian’s, trying to move it.

Brian’s licked at Justin’s ear. His voice was a harsh whisper now. “Then I’d start just dragging the belt again, Justin, but not just on your thighs anymore. I’d trail it across your cock… your cock that’s leaked all over your stomach, and I’d drag the belt through the wetness, and spread it all over your chest and thighs, and then back to your cock. Back and forth, gently letting it touch the tip, pick up more pre-come, up to your nipples….” And Brian pinched Justin’s nipples again, but gently this time, and started rubbing Justin’s cock through his pants again.

“Then I’d start on your thighs, then back to your cock, letting the belt trace so slowly across it, you pulling on the restraints that have you tied to the bed, pushing your hips up as much as you can, figuring out then why I spread your legs so far… because I’m trailing the belt over your balls, and from your balls to your cock and back again.

“And then I'd pick up the belt and lash it down one… time… hard… across… your… cock.”

Justin gasped and came against Brian’s hand, the hot flow gushing out of his cock and soaking his pants, Brian shoving up under him and biting down on his neck.

Justin lay across Brian, his leg still sprawled off the sofa, his heart pounding. Brian gently slid back until he was sitting up, and pulled Justin with him. Justin turned to face him, curling against him, burying his face in his neck.

“Fuck.”

Brian chuckled. “Feeling better?”

Justin nodded. “Yeah. Ummm, welcome home.”


End file.
